I Would Let You
by Sincosma
Summary: Unwinding after a war. Hiccstrid. Fluffy fluff.


**I Would Let You**  
_Sincosma_

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A/N: Set directly after the second movie when Hiccup is made Chief, but before the end race sequence. Definite spoilers; read at your own risk!

Rating: K+, mostly fluff with fluff in some fluff and kissing. Hiccstrid.

Disclaimer: All of these things belong to other people. I am not making money on this. I think it's cute we all still feel the need to make these disclaimers. Cover art by artavias (artavias . deviantart art / Hiccstrid-460265841). Remove spaces in link.

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The people of Berk carried him to the mead hall, propping him on their shoulders as they sang the song of their village.

Of course, it hadn't been a willing endeavor, but he eventually allowed it when Astrid grabbed his hand, her tiny contribution to holding him up. She threw him a smile that said, _Just let it happen_. And maybe this time he deserved it. Never had Berk faced such an enormous enemy nor such a loss. And he _had_ saved them all. So many times had he tried to push off the glory to someone else and claimed it as luck. For once, he allowed himself to be proud – proud not just of Toothless and of the people who had aided him, but _himself_.

They made him sit on his father's throne. It was three times too big for him, but no one seemed to care. Nor did they seem to really think that sitting there would cause a tangible pain in his chest. Astrid stayed by him the whole time as the hall was lit up and decorated. The cooks went about preparing a feast and throughout the rest of the day and into the night, Hiccup was approached with gifts from the people of Berk – _his_ people.

He still couldn't believe it.

He had woken up in his mother's dragon sanctuary that morning as just Hiccup, son of Stoic the Vast, chief of the mighty village of Berk. And now he would sleep as Hiccup, new chief of Berk, dragon rider and officially A Terrified Kid. There hadn't been a moment to deliberate when the Elder chose him. He knew it was the right thing to do; who would take the helm? His mother didn't want it. Who else could be trusted to do right by not only the village, but the _dragons_?

Hiccup had always been efficient. And part of him, while struggling to get his father to listen to him, had always wanted to be in a place of more importance and influence. Because he _did_ believe in his ideas and his inventions and his philosophies. He believed – now more than ever – that he was meant to help dragons and Vikings find the peace he had with Toothless. He believed it was the _right_ path.

And now he was in that place of influence.

As he sat there, fighting panic and weariness all night, he tried to fathom what his life would now become. He knew he had help. He knew he wasn't alone. But it was still like standing before an angry Night Fury for the first time all over again.

He felt small and weak and overwhelmed.

But he was also exhausted. Fighting a war, losing your father, and becoming chief all in one day wasn't conducive to a particularly relaxing experience as, at the end of the night, he was forced to give a speech. And he had no idea how he found the energy to do it, but he mustered it up especially after Astrid squeezed his hand and gave him a trusting look. Like she knew he could do it. Like he was her chief. So he did.

"I won't pretend I'm good at speeches. I don't have a lot of experience with them. And I think I can speak for the rest of the Riders when I say we're all exhausted in every way. But I lost my father today and you lost a chief. It will take time to come to terms with that. But we _will_ survive this. I will do everything in my power to rebuild this village even better than it was. I will do everything I can to live up to the legacy my father left behind."

And he really couldn't say anymore; the roar of cries in the hall was deafening and saved him from having to speak any longer. He didn't feel like a chief so he had no more chiefly things to offer. His people chanted his name and he nodded to them all, wishing they would stop.

It took so long, but eventually the night ended. It was midnight and exhaustion set in so deep Hiccup felt like he was receding into himself like a wrinkled old man by the time Astrid touched his shoulder. His voice was nearly gone from all the yelling he'd done and even after eating twice his weight, he felt weak.

"You need to rest, Hiccup," she said softly, sitting on the arm of his father's throne.

He looked around at the nearly empty hall, dishes and various weapons left behind. The few people left were milling their way out in slight staggers, some casting reverent looks back in his direction. His mother stood with his uncle, probably catching up and telling stories about Stoic the Vast. The fire was beginning to die in the great fireplace and he couldn't help but feel like _he_ was the fire dwindling, stretched too thin and starved of fuel left to burn.

Astrid pulled him off the throne and put a warm arm around his waist, leading him out into the night. His mother and uncle bid him goodnight as he passed and he could only manage a wave of his hand. Everything felt fuzzy. Astrid smelled like soft grass and sandalwood. Her presence, mixed with the frigid winter's night air, brought him back to wakefulness.

"What a day," he mumbled, stretching an arm over her shoulder and pulling her closer as their hips bumped. The moon lit their way to the chief's house. A house that would be horribly empty tonight.

"You look so tired, Hiccup," Astrid sighed, glancing up at him and squeezing his side. "I hate seeing you this tired."

Hiccup shrugged. "I'll be fine, Milady."

She gave another little sigh but smiled at him.

Astrid took him inside, following him up the stairs and to his room. Of course, she had been there a few times before; she knew how to work the mechanism that lit all four candles in the room at once. He sat down on his bed and found his body felt so heavy. His head slumped forward and his elbows rested on his knees.

So tired. So heavy.

Astrid crouched in front of him, threading her fingers through his. "Hiccup?"

"Sorry…you can go, Astrid. I'm going to take a while, here," he muttered. "Thank you for walking me home."

Astrid just gave a little laugh and started undoing the straps on his gauntlets. "_Men_. When you're tired it's like you just can't go on." She pulled off the leather armor piece by piece, placing each bit in a neat pile at the foot of his bed. Hiccup watched her face, the way she concentrated a little harder when a strap gave her a hard time, the way she smiled a bit when his fingers brushed back her hair.

It was something so intimate, something so comfortable, like they had been doing this forever. Yet, they had never done this.

When he was free of his armor, she rested her hands on his knees and looked up at him tiredly. Dark circles bruised her eyes and her lips were chapped from the cold and the chewing she did when she was stressed. But she was beautiful. She always was – even when she was horribly sick last year, even when she was covered in mud and bruises and blood.

"Hiccup," she whispered. "I'm really sorry."

He didn't want her to say that, but he was glad she did. No one had really said it to him yet and he was happy she had been the one to. He leaned down and kissed her, holding her face in his hands and focusing on the light flutter of her lashes against his cheek. A few moments passed and she pulled away, her hands coming up to grip his own. His vision was blurred and she looked at him in sadness and surprise.

"Hiccup, you're crying," she said in a voice that sounded like she could cry herself.

Then he felt the wetness on his cheeks, running down to his jaw and he blinked, bringing his hand up to wipe it away in surprise. "I didn't realize…"

And that's when he finally fell apart. He had held everything together so well since the funeral and his eulogy, but now he was too tired to hold everything up and reality set in like a stain on fabric. The last little bit of determination he had hung on to dissolved and he found his shoulders shaking as silent sobs shook his body like his father would shake him when they talked. He imagined those huge hands engulfing his shoulders, not listening but intent of fathering his son into a strong, honorable Viking.

Astrid crawled onto the bed and held him against her. In one movement, he pulled her into his lap and pressed his face into her neck. Because he didn't know what else to do. He didn't know how to stop the pain. But Astrid was _there_ and she was crying too and holding him like she was glad she hadn't lost him to Toothless' blast instead.

Because they were kids. They were still so young and so lost. Everything about the way they clung to each other spoke volumes of the overwhelming positions they now found themselves in. Because it wasn't just Hiccup who had inherited the village. The Riders would have to help rebuild, an almost _impossible_ task considering nearly half of the village was decimated. They would inherit the responsibilities of their elders. They were the next generation and the passing of Stoic would finally set into motion traditions hundreds of years old. Training was over now.

He imagined he and Astrid couldn't be the only ones grieving that night.

But, like all things, it passed. Astrid stayed curled up in his arms and they shared heat in the frigid air. His face dried and kissed the skin of her neck, tasting the salt he had left there. He shut out the cold and the cries of dragons on the rooftops and the fear that overwhelmed him of the future. He focused on the woman in his arms, the woman of his future, the woman who held his pieces together on a daily basis.

"I'm scared," he whispered.

"Me too," she breathed back, running her fingers through his hair.

"Will you stay with me?"

Astrid finally pulled away and stared at him with glassy, red eyes. She looked tired and surprised and nervous all in one expression. "Stay here?"

"Only if you want to, Astrid," Hiccup promised. "It's cold and I don't really want to be alone tonight."

She bit her already abused lip and seemed to deliberate it. Hiccup and her father had made an agreement five years ago when their courtship had started. And Viking courtships were complicated and tedious procedures. Just her being there in his room was breaking a few agreements. It wouldn't be the first time they had broken one of the rules (like kissing, something her father eventually was kind enough to let go of), but sharing a bed whether there was consummation or not was a lot more serious than stealing a kiss in front of the village.

But they were also twenty and well past marrying age and even though her father had not given Hiccup permission for marriage, they were old enough to now run the village and that _had_ to count for something.

Astrid stared a moment longer, then seemed to make up her mind. "I'll hear it in the morning," she said softly, kissing his cheek, "but of _course_ I'll stay."

Relief washed over him and he suddenly realized just how badly he had really needed her to stay with him.

He slowly unhooked her armor and her furs, her eyes nearly glowing in the half-light. After some wriggling, she kicked off her boots and pushed him back on the bed. Despite his exhaustion, the entire situation had him wide awake; this was the sort of scenario that played in his dreams. He found refuge under the furs on his bed and started a bit when he felt her hand on his leg.

"Sorry," she giggled. "I was going to help you take off your prosthetic."

"I normally don't take it off when I sleep. Y'know, in case of a surprise attack in the night or something," he said with a shrug. Years ago, there would've also been the insecurity of his stump; it hadn't been something he was okay with right away. But five years and a decent amount of maturing fixed that, not to mention eighty percent of the people of Berk were missing _something_.

"But it's _gotta_ be uncomfortable," she insisted, pushing his hands out of the way and disconnecting the prosthetic with a confidence that surprised him; maybe she was just accustomed to how his inventions operated by this point. "I think you can handle being legless tonight, Hiccup."

Anxiety shot through Hiccup at the idea of the house exploding into shards of wood, Drago swooping in and attacking them both – and Hiccup with only one leg and helpless. He would never have time to reattach his prosthetic. Not having it only made him weaker than he already was. He grabbed her hands again.

"Really, Astrid," he said quietly. "It bothers me."

"Bothers you because you're afraid of being attacked? Or it bothers you because you're self-conscious?" she whispered, her face so close to his, he could feel her breath against his cheek.

"I _used_ to be self-conscious about it. Years ago. Now…I just get anxious. I'm already a pretty subpar fighter so I don't need yet _another_ disadvantage-"

Hiccup received a jab in the stomach and let out a grunt. "_Astrid-_"

"Shut up, Hiccup. You beat me in a spar last week! You're not allowed to put yourself down. Just because you're not so massive you can't fit through doorways doesn't mean you can't defend yourself – or defend _others_," Astrid said hotly.

"I just don't want to be caught off guard. Especially considering the day I've had," he said tiredly, closing his eyes and feeling a headache build behind his eyes.

It was her turn to push his hands out of the way and completely disconnect his prosthetic. "Which is all the more reason for you to relax. Chill for a night, Hiccup. I can look after things."

Hiccup let out a disgruntled sigh. "You're gonna to give me a panic attack."

She set the leg down on the floor, her body twisted so she could put it down gently. He reached out and wrapped his arms around her, bringing her back to him and earning a small yelp. Her hair smothered his face and her body heat made the bed suddenly too warm, but none of it could ever be described as uncomfortable.

"Well, obviously, you're perfectly fine," she giggled in his ear, pulling her braid out of his face. The moment she let go of it, he reached up and began unwinding it. "Hey," she complained suddenly.

"It's only fair."

She huffed, but allowed it. It wasn't often she would wear her hair down, but when she did (for parties, dinners, and the like) Hiccup found the strands irresistible. It reminded him of the pale gold color that filled the sky at sunset, gliding on cloud tops with Toothless. The strands were curled, bent out of shape by the braid that she'd probably made a month ago or more. It was common for Viking hair to live in some sort of organized tangle. He wondered, if she let it free for a long time, what shape it would take on its own? Most of her hair fell straight, but maybe the ends would curl, like her mother's. He pushed his fingers through the golden strands and had a sudden image of what it might look on their wedding day.

Their wedding day.

They really didn't talk about it much. In the one discussion they had had, maybe a year ago, they had more or less agreed that one day they would. It only made sense. After just a _year_ of steady courtship, it was an unspoken agreement that they were crazy about one another. Anyone could see it; why even bring it up and pick it apart? But the future loomed ahead and Hiccup remembered the conversation; he'd been the one to start it.

"_Would you ever marry?" he asked, sitting next to her on an island in the sea, staring at the bone-white clouds above them. _

_She sat back on her hands and gave him a very surprised and almost angry look. "What kind of question is that?"_

_He immediately felt defensive – she brought out this tendency in him – but forced it away. "It's just a question, Astrid."_

_Astrid let out a long sigh. "Yes, I would. Why? Worried about Snotlout's five proposals a week?"_

_Now it was his turn to sigh. "He's too busy with Ruffnut now. And can't I just ask a question without getting flack?" he laughed. "I'm not suggesting anything. I just realized we've never really talked about it."_

_She settled now, all the fire fading from her gaze which was now just thoughtful. "No. We haven't. But…of course I would marry. It's sort of expected of me. And especially of you being the chief's son."_

_They both seemed to stray away from the point, though; would they marry each other? Hiccup wanted her to say it first, the insecure part of him wishing for validation. But he had changed a lot and now, having just turned nineteen, he wasn't going to back down from the unspoken challenge._

"_You don't _have_ to marry, you know," Hiccup countered. "There are plenty of women in Berk who decided not to marry."_

"_I know," she said with a laugh, giving him a grateful smile. Maybe she sort of needed to hear him say that. She had said before that she appreciated him always giving her a choice. Maybe she really forgot about that sometimes._

"_I would marry you." He said it after a moment of quiet, feeling like he had just let himself slip off of Toothless' back during the test runs of his flying suit._

_Astrid froze, her face going a peculiarly rosy color. She stared at him in shock and…fear?_

"_You want to marry me?" she asked, voice nearly lost to the wind._

"_Well, not right _now_," Hiccup recovered, feeling flustered and forcing himself to hold her intense gaze. "But I…could only hope – when we're older, that is – that you would let me spend the rest of my life with you."_

_And then Astrid pounced on him and started a very intense make-out session that Hiccup would think about for a very long time. It was so long and heated, even their dragons took off to play in the clouds; they generally tolerated only a little of their relationship. And when they finished and Astrid curled herself up against his chest, pushing his back into some sharp rocks (which he did _not_ care about), she said, "I would let you. In a heartbeat."_

Even despite that moment, they had never spoken like that again, let alone drop the L-bomb.

"Where'd you go?" Astrid asked softly, pulling him out of his reverie.

"I was just thinking about something," he assured her sleepily, feeling his eyes droop a bit. "Or dreaming. Not sure which one."

"About what?" she egged on, running her fingers over his collarbone, a sensation that was forcing him back into wakefulness.

"That day on Red Tail Island last year."

She tensed a bit and it was clear she remembered.

"It was a great day. I want to have a day like that again. Something to offset _this_ day," he sighed.

Astrid leaned further into him and kissed his adam's apple. "You'll have _many_ good days to offset this one. You have the rest of your _life_ to offset today. Not to mention," she paused and Hiccup could hear her grin, "you'll be with _me_. I'll definitely keep things interesting."

Hiccup knew what she was saying. It was funny how they were so comfortable with each other, so trusting, yet there were things that they never really talked about, like this. He trapped her face in his hands and kissed her long and hard.

"I would marry you," he whispered against her lips, sliding his fingers down her back and around her waist.

"I would let you. In a heartbeat," Astrid sighed, her lips pulled in the widest smile they could bear.

"I know I'll get through today and tomorrow and all the days after…because of you. I know it's sappy, but it's the truth," Hiccup insisted, moving his lips to her cheek and down her neck. Her breathing quickened the lower he went.

"You've got a mushy heart, Chief," Astrid giggled, burying her fingers in his hair and in his shirt.

Then, it suddenly became imperative that he stop and pull away. He stared into her face in the dying candlelight – how long had they been lying there? – and said, "I love you."

It was the L-bomb. He had nearly said it many times before, just catching it on the tip of his tongue or the edge of his teeth. Always was he catching it. And now he wasn't.

All the air seemed to go out of her lungs as she stared at him wide-eyed, crystal blue, and pupils blown. Her face was freckled and flushed and so close to him he could see the fine blonde hairs there. And he could see a bruise on her temple and a small cut along her eyebrow and another bruise on her chin. He knew _he_ was beat up _too_. Wars did that. But here they were, together and close and breaking about forty rules.

Which was pretty normal in a day's work for Hiccup.

"Do you mean it?" was all she said, voice breaking just enough to reveal how exhausted and emotional she really was.

He gave her a look and said, "No, I just thought I'd see your reaction because I hate you."

And she laughed. Her whole body moved in his arms and her forehead bumped his chin as she tried to get as close to him as possible. "I love you, too."

Sleepy happiness bloomed through his entire body, making his finger tingle and his heart thud faster. He wondered when his day would stop being an emotional blender, but then _this_ is how he wanted to feel before going to sleep. And this is where he wanted to _be_; wrapped up with the love of his life, right on the cusp of a new future.

And he would spend that future with her.

"Now that we have that settled," Hiccup said resolutely, wondering when his face would stop feeling so hot, "would you be interested in some sleep?"

"Only if I wake up next to you," Astrid said very seriously, looking up at him with tired, red eyes. She was crying a little and he wasn't about to even call her out on it. Not after the day they had just had.

"Only if this mush fest stops _now_," he insisted.

She jabbed him in the side, earning a jump and a sore rib.

"Better?"

"Perfect."

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_End._

Fluffy fluffs with a side of fluff. I make myself sick. Review if you'd like to praise or call me out on mistakes (which I seriously do _not_ mind). If not, thanks for reading.


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